In the distance
by xfirelillylovex
Summary: not your average story of zuko... he has been taken as a prisoner in a land of ice and snow. Badly injured and ready to die. Only a slave girl scared and alone can possibly help.But can they ever be free... mature themes but no lemon... yet! Review!
1. In the distance

The air was warm and there was a slight breeze. Her dark brown hair splayed out in ripples. She could feel the soft grass between her fingers. Peeking through her eyelashes she saw above her a haze of green littered with bright stars of sparkling sunlight. Thin beams were poking through the leaves and sprinkling her body with patches of light, like little candles. Leaves rustled in the breeze their gentle sound calmed her, reminding her of the sea. She stared in awe of all their different colours and shades of green: soft and light baby green, just sprouting; dark foresty green, green turning hazel; some glittering yellowy gold and even dark purple ones glowing red in the sun. Such a tree she had never seen before, tall, strong and beautiful beyond compare. Its proud branches curved lovingly around her.

Suddenly, the picture changed; she was out from under her tree. The ground underneath her was cold. She needed to get back under the safety of its branches. The air around her was growing hot. Water was rising from the ground and turning to ice, freezing the roots, slipping steadily up the bark. At the same moment the sun increased its heat and the top most leaves caught fire. The fire was working its way down. Panic filled her; panic, pain and grief. Ellena woke with a start.

Ever since she was young, she had been imprisoned behind walls. She was a slave, and hers was the barest of existences: an endless cycle of drudgery, exhaustion and dull fear. Freedom was a fantasy she gnawed obsessively in her few moments of leisure, like a bone with just a trace of meat; and like all illusions, it left her hungrier than before, only more keenly aware of how her soul starved within her, its wings wasting with the despair of disuse.

She leaned back and breathed in hard, gazing up at the distant stars, tiny points of frosty fire high over the smoking volcano. Autumn was beginning to flirt with winter brining lingering frosts.

The bell for sleep had been rung at least an hour ago but she had snuck outside to get some peace, think and try to come up with some sort of plan of escape (an idea which had long become a distant dream) after being woken up by having a disturbing nightmare that she had had twice before and had always left her heart thumping in fear. But anyone who tried to escape was killed either by the guards and their guns or ripped to shreds by the mutant dogs of hell that patrolled around the walls. If they failed, the fire wards that protected the grounds would act as burning prison bars there was no escape though many had tried. Their bodies were brought back in pieces or as ash! Even if there was a way out, there was nowhere she could go. Her home land had been burned to the ground. She was imprisoned not only by stone walls and fire wards, but by the volcano to one side and endless woods on the other reaching up and surrounding the walls and as always the freezing winds of the north. Cold bitter winds that cut and gnawed at her pale skin.

A marching clank from outside the walls broke through her wistful state and she swiftly hid in the shadows as the steel gates screeched open… Soporific heat hit her like an avalanche, as if flames were licking up her body and closing in on her throat. The foul stench of burning wafted up her nose and anger frizzed in the air. Beads of sweat seeped down her skin as she tried desperately not to choke. Opening her stinging eyes she saw a black stone crate, smoke spewing from the tiny gaps as it glowed red. The mysterious dark box was creating a muffled thumping sound as if, whatever was inside, was throwing itself against the walls. A roar of agony and frustration came stifled from within, the anguished sound made the hairs on her neck stand up and her heart cringe madly, as if to try and escape her ribcage.

The master's loud, cruel laugh echoed round the walls. The crate had been carried and placed at the master's feet. Whatever was in the glowing red and black box it was now at the mercy of the laughing shadow that was the master. At the sound, the thumping paused. The master's voice raised goosebumps on her skin -despite the unnatural heat surrounding her- as he said, "well, well, at long last, the beast has finally been captured." At this the thumping restarted with renewed energy and desperation as if the 'beast' inside knew the terrors that awaited him at the hands of the master and it was scared. The master laughed again, "It looks like our visitor needs cooling down. That won't be a problem; will it men?" The soldiers laughed, many of them sported wounds from the hunt and no doubt wanted revenge. "I hope you will enjoy your long stay in our frozen heaven" and with one last bark of laughter, he ordered the men to take the crate away. The growls and snarls gradually disappeared, along with her suffering, as the stone box was carried slowly down into the damp, cold prisons below.

She couldn't get to sleep. The cold bit into her toes but the heat was thumping in her head as her thoughts raced, twirling in a strange dance, imagining what fiery creature could have been in that black stone box. Eventually, she closed her eyes and sank into the warm dusk that separates sleep and consciousness, where reality bends and sways to the wind of thought, and where creativity blossoms in its freedom from boundaries and all things are possible.

She was out from under her tree. The ground underneath her was cold. She needed to get back under the safety of its branches. The air around her was growing hot. Water was rising from the ground and turning to ice, freezing the roots, slipping steadily up and up the bark. At the same moment the sun increased its soporific heat and the top most leaves caught fire. The fire was working its way down. They were killing it. Panic filled her; panic, pain and desperation.


	2. She woke with a start

She woke shaking and covered in cold sweat

She woke shaking and covered in cold sweat. The waking bell had stopped but its high pitched ring carried on echoing round her skull. Slowly, she forced herself up out of bed and into the wintry morning air. Washing quickly in icy water, she then put on her slave dress. It wasn't really a dress at all; it was just a thin piece of black material that made her already pale skin look even paler. It was such a cold morning so she put on both of the dresses she had (not that it would shield her much) and then tied a strip of cloth round her waist. Her coppery brown hair she tucked under a long scarf so no one could see it. To have hair in any shade of red, ment that you could -to a varying extent- control fire and you were therefore dangerous but also valuable, however, she had tried many times to control a flame with no avail, never the less she still hid her hair as all the soldiers and most of the slaves had fair hair. It was said that those with exceptionally light hair could control water of ice, depending on the colour of their eyes; blue being those to control water. Although she had seen a few around talking to the master she had never actually seen any one control fire, ice or water. The most disturbing thing about her was her eyes. They were both green and looked slightly hazel from a distance, but up close, one was laced with streaks of bright blue other was flecked with pale gold. Overall, she wasn't very pretty but not ugly either, however, because of her strange appearance she was treated as an outcast, which had its benefits and drawbacks. One of the many disadvantages was that she was left completely alone with no friends or family. This also coupled as an advantage as the men usually left her completely alone.

She Scanned the time table pinned to the wall, she found her name and her spirits sank down to her feet; she was to be serving in to master's hall all day. Dragging her feet along the courtyard, her eyes lids drooping from lack of sleep, her head down against the bitter wind. The first part of the day was not bad, as the master and his soldiers had been drinking all night in celebration of the success of their long weeks of hunting. They slept till a little before midday when they started feeling hungry. Then trouble began.

The men sat down for lunch. Cramming food down their throats like pigs. Unfortunately for her, she was at the upper end of the table near the master and his most vile drinking buddies. One of the men named Rumashu leaned over to her, he had a sickening grin that revealed his crooked teeth and his breath stank of drink. His dirty hand reached out and stroked up her elbow. She could feel his rough blistered skin scratching hers. She gritted her teeth, suppressing a shiver of repulsion, she tried to ignore him and carry on pouring drinks. This was what she had feared most. As she had grown older it had become more and more of a problem, it had been fuelling her desperate plans of escape. Although she didn't look it, because of malnourishment she had long been sixteen and was fast approaching seventeen, she had been expecting something like this for a while. Many a slave had been taken to a soldier's bed without their permission.

His murderous hands slipped over to her waist, locking her in his grip. He pulled her forward. His hand slid down. Panic, fear and rage shot through her body as she wrenched herself out of his grip, without thinking she whacked the jug she was holding into his face causing him to howl and fall back in pain. Now out of his grip dread froze her blood so that she couldn't move. All the men in the hall were roaring with laughter. The man she had hit and humiliated was rising from his chair hatred and revenge in his cold eyes. He advanced on her and her legs gave way and she fell backwards. His mouth curved in to a cruel grin displaying his yellow/black teeth as he surveyed his prey crumpled on the floor. "Well" he proclaimed over the continuing sniggers, "My cold hands are obviously not to your warm tastes. Perhaps our fiery guest will be more to your liking." At his words the hall became deadly silent. Laughter vanished from all faces except the master's. He gave a short bark of a laugh and ordered two of the guards to take her to the prisons.

She had expected the prisons to be cold like everywhere else, or colder. As she stepped through the door however, the same fuming heat from the night before swept over her. It was a bit dulled in power when compared to what she had previously felt. Most slaves were beaten or whipped as a punishment, she had gotten a broken arm last time she disobeyed orders. Fear was rising through her body making her stumble and fall down the slippery stairs. Her face fell in a puddle of red and as she breathed, the stench of congealing blood overpowered her, making her wretch. The black stone door thudded shut behind her, and there was a small clang as a plate of food was hastily dropped, as the guard who had brought her almost ran out.

Squinting through her eyelashes, she could see almost nothing except a dim red light and curls of angry smoke which filled the room. Light and smoke seemed to rise from the corner of the small room and from there also came the sound of a heavy growling breath. Curiosity overcame a tiny part of her fear and the stifling heat and as she inched closer she saw the reason for the pools of blood. He was a man, she supposed. Blood was still oozing out of a wide gash in his side and a deep slit under his eye stopping just over the bridge of his long nose and going right up to form a small nick in his left ear. This was the man the soldiers had been hunting for weeks, he must have put up an immense fight then, but now he didn't look fit to fight a fly, let alone a poor defenceless slave girl. His eyes were closed as his sweat mingled with his clotting blood. His tortured face twisted and turned his eyes fluttered desperately under his lids, and his body shivered with an increasing fever. He muttered constantly but the only words she could understand were, "no, stop, help or please", sometimes he would yell out names of people or places. Gathering her courage she reached to touch his face. He flinched away from her touch, crying out in pain. His skin burned, like fire, and for a second his eyes rolled open revealing two flaming fires of fury. Deep red and dark orange like bubbling lava pools filled with hatred and suffering. She leaped back in shock. Whimpering, he curled himself into a ball. He was a fire mage, and a very powerful one in comparison to the few she had seen working for the master. But he was weak and helpless trapped in this damp cell. Making up her mind, she went and got the food and water left by the guard and set to tending to his wounds. Gently removing his torn and blood soaked shirt, she saw that his back and chest were covered in large purple bruises. Remembering the thuds she heard coming from the box the other night she guessed that they had been made by him throwing himself against the walls of his prison.

She took the cloth from around her waist and started ripping one of her two dresses. Dipping the pieces in water and placing them on his burning flesh. She cleaned his wounds and did her best to stem the bleeding, by pressing down on his torso. He calmed down a little after she'd managed to force some water through his lips. It was all she could do for him now. The guard came back for her before sundown.

As night fell this time she slipped out yet again into the cold. But this time she would not just stand around freezing to death dreaming and making futile plans of escape, this time she had a purpose. Weaving in between objects she kept to the shadows as much as possible. Everything was silent as she crept into the medicine storage room. The room was used to tend to soldiers and slaves when they were injured. The night before it had been used a lot as all most all the soldiers, who had come back, had one or more burns or other wounds. Their stench still hung in the air mixing with the surgical smell of medicines and the irony taste of blood. Though someone had obviously tried to clear up after them, the place was still a mess. She grabbed bandages, a clean needle and some thread, some pain killers and anything else she thought might be useful, and stuffed it all in a bag.

A light beamed through the windows illuminating the room in an unnatural blue/white glow. She crouched down. Voices called in the darkness. They got closer and closer…closer. Her heart was now pumping so hard that she was sure that the men could hear the noise. The voices passed and she slipped out and back into bed. After calming herself down, she started to make plans, to sneak off to the prisons again.

She was out from under her tree. The ground underneath her was growing cold. She needed to get back under the safety of its branches. The air around her was increasingly hot. Water was rising from the ground and turning to ice, freezing the roots, slipping steadily up and up the bark. At the same moment the sun increased its soporific heat and the top most leaves caught fire. The fire was working its way down. They were killing it! Panic filled her; panic, pain and sorrow.


	3. Kiss from a stranger

She was out from under her tree. The ground underneath her was cold. She needed to get back under the safety of its branches. The air around her was growing hot. Water was rising from the ground and turning to ice, freezing the roots, slipping steadily up and up the bark. At the same moment the sun increased its soporific heat and the top most leaves caught fire. The fire was working its way down. They were killing it. Panic filled her; panic, pain and desperation.

The same dream again. Her heart was leaping and she hadn't even started the day. Let alone put her plans for helping her fire mage in to operation. However, as she looked down the day's time table, she smiled to herself (a very unusual thing). Next to her name was something she nor anyone else had ever had, not that anyone else but her would want it, especially right now. She was to be sent to the prisons. Wrapping the bandage around her body and placed her dress over the top, the rest she was able to fit in her pockets. Surprisingly, she was rather looking forward to today it would not be nearly as frightening as yesterday.

As she got out into the wintry air she realized that it had snowed while she slept and so went back to wrap a blanket around her shoulders. After taking a few steps her toes were frozen red and numb as the snow was at least two inches thick. Before heading toward the prisons she made a quick stop to the storage rooms. Other slaves in there were also preparing for their daily chores and they looked at her with a mixture of fear, pity and suspicion. Picking up a bucket she swiftly left making sure her smile was gone as she reached the prison guards. He looked suspiciously at the bucket in her hands and the strange happy glow in her eyes, and then looked away, she was just a slave, she was of no importance to him. Opening the door so she could go down, he watched as she scooped up snow with her bucket before ducking under his arm through the doorway. His cold eyes followed her as she descended down the stairs into the warm prison. The door clicked shut behind her and keys rattled as the door was locked.

Eager to see how her patient was doing, she jumped down the last few steps and ran into the cell. He was a little better, still a bit feverish but his breath was less laboured and he had stopped his fretful muttering. After cleaning him up and giving him pain killers, she put the snow in him. It melted away quickly on his warm skin, the cool water mingling with his sweat, but it cooled him down a lot. As his twitching had ceased, she started to stitch up the cut in his side. Apart from growling out his pain, he was quiet and still as she worked.

Once she had finished with his side she wrapped her work in bandages and moved up to his clammy face. Laying his head on her lap she started to stitch his sliced cheek. She wiped away the beads of sweat and damp hair from his face and realised that if he didn't have a bloody gash and pained expression he would have a quite handsome face his high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes made him look young and strong. She stared into his face, his eye lids slowly slid open… Though this time his eyes were not the angry, suffering, hate filled infernos. They were quiet golden liquid drops of amber. His eyes focused on hers. They filled with a sudden dazzling flame of passion. Brilliant, burning coals in the darkness. Their faces were so close; she could feel his ragged breath on her cheek. His hand reached out for her seeking comfort and her soft warmth. Their lips brushed. Her breath caught. His lips closed fiercely over hers. His deep kiss was filled with unrestrained passionate longing. Sending shivers through her body. His head fell away and the kiss was broken. His eyes rolled as he fell unconscious again. His blood was racing and his heart pumping furiously, his breathing was heavy but not because of his fever. Her lips felt bruised, by his overpowering force, burned by his by the power of his emotions. She was unable to move from shock. Her first kiss and it was from a crazy, feverish, prisoner. She didn't even know his name! Her heart was pounding whether with fear or shock or something else she wasn't sure, but he had calmed down. His head lolled inwards, brushing her stomach, making her start out of her state of shock. Lifting his head with the blanket she places him back on the floor and quickly got up and moved away just staring at him.

After sitting on the other side of the cell, against the wall, she decided to carry on tending to her patient keeping him cool and slipping some more water between lips. Though this time not going so close. When the guard came she looked back and wondered if he would remember. He was feverish, confused, of course he wouldn't remember, but she knew it would always be vivid in her mind, as her first kiss.

That night she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him; his face, his eyes and felt the burn of his yearning lips on hers.

please review and say whether you think the rating is right! and thanks to just some stranger, RueBroadway, sandy, AvitarAiris and mittensx7768 for your very encouraging reviews!


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